


A General Commotion

by Matryyoshka



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 23:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20591216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matryyoshka/pseuds/Matryyoshka
Summary: Sansa has a project due and a crush to conquer.Written for Sansaery week 2019 Day 3 prompt: Coffee/Tea.





	A General Commotion

**Author's Note:**

> Hi folks! Some lighter fare today for Sansaery week day 3! Loosely inspired by the Futurama episode where Fry drinks 300 cups of coffee, which is a great thing to watch if you're curious about how my brain works.

_One Cup_

Patient. Reliable. Focused. Responsible. All qualities that Sansa's references had mentioned in their letters of recommendation for Sansa's Masters program. 

They hadn't mentioned "high strung as fuck."

They hadn't mentioned "prone to emotional breakdowns in times of stress."

They hadn't mentioned "driven to the point where she will crest the wave of that emotional breakdown on a vessel made from caffeine and sheer willpower."

But that's exactly what she was going to godsdamned do.

"You're doing the thing again. The thing where you just stare at the coffee pot like you want to both kill it _and_ fuck it. Is this going to be like exams all over again?"

Arya is leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. _She's only in second year. She doesn't know. Sweet summer child._

"This," Sansa says, pointing to the coffee pot, "is a Rubicon. Once it has been crossed, there's no going back. I've already been up for sixteen hours working on my project for Dr. "Dickhead" Clegane. I have to continually refuel myself for the next eighteen hours to avoid crashing." She gets very close to Arya, who looks as close to scared as Sansa has ever seen her. "I have to ride this lightning, or I'll get burnt alive."

She walks back to the coffee maker and fills a mug that says "World's #1 Dad." She looks out the window at the horizon and raises the mug to her lips.

"It begins."

* * *

_Three Cups_

Sansa balances the tray of coffees in one hand while fumbling with her keys with the other. She drops them and stares in mute horror, so anxious she can't comprehend this new, unfair blow. 

She hears light laughter behind her and someone approaches and picks up her keys. It's Margaery Tyrell, Enviro Sci goddess from across the hall, and the object of Sansa's semester-long crush. _Of course it is, on today of all days._ The petite brunette unlocks the door to Sansa's shared office and grins disarmingly. "Thesis due?"

"Term project with a huge bearing on my thesis," Sansa says, gratefully accepting her keys back. "Oh!" She says as Margaery turns around. "Do you, um, want a coffee? They're from the Dragon Pit. I always get an extra just in case."

Margaery accepts a coffee from the tray, a smile playing around her lips. "Just in case of what?"

"Just in case, um, anyone on the floor wants one," Sansa says weakly. Margaery smiles at her over her cup.

"Well, thank you for the just in case coffee, darling."

Sansa sets the coffees down on Myranda's desk and takes a deep, calming breath before shaking her head with new resolve.

_You don't have time for romance, Stark._

She grabs a cup.

* * *

_Seven Cups_

Sansa waits impatiently for the coffee maker in their floor's kitchen to finish delivering her sustenance. Her hand is shaking as she pours into her Florian and Jonquil commemorative mug. She looks up to see Margaery holding a granola bar out to her.

"I think you're going to need some food to buffer that, darling."

Sansa accepts the proffered snack. She tries and fails three times to remove the wrapper before Margaery takes it back and does it for her. _Humiliating._

"S-Sorry," Sansa stutters through chattering teeth. "There's a fatal bug buried _somewhere_ in my code, and if I don't find it literally nothing will work." She looks at her watch. "I have nine hours to make sure I have an actual working project to submit. Otherwise, I'll just wallow away in academic obscurity, another might-have-been, another scrubbed out grad student on Clegane's list."

She is backing out of the room as she delivers this monologue, eager to get back to her desk. Margaery's floral perfume is distracting, and Sansa needs focus, complete and utter - 

Margaery grabs her by the shoulders firmly. "Sansa. You can do this. I don't understand one godsdamned thing about _what_ you do, but I know you can do it."

Sansa nods, Margaery's words pounding in her ears right alongside her elevated heartbeat. Margaery leans in and brushes her lips across Sansa's cheek. "For luck," she says, and Sansa watches her walk down the hall, gaping.

She takes a long swig of coffee.

* * *

_Ten Cups_

Sansa Stark is a genius. This has become clear to her in the past six hours. It's inconceivable that anyone else in Westeros - nay, the world - are thinking anything close to the groundbreaking ideas shooting through her mind like world-destroying asteroids She is here, at the frontier of computing science, and everyone else is somewhere far behind, lucky if they're even _close_ enough to eat her dust.

There's a knock at the door. Mere hours before, she had nearly thrown something at Myranda for interrupting her flow. That all seems so silly now. She knows now that she_ is_ the flow, a human conduit for the computer, as much a part of it as its motherboard or RAM.

Margaery Tyrell is at the door, looking at her with concern.

"You alright? You've been at it for a while here. And, um, you look a bit... manic."

Sansa's smile spreads across her face slowly. She's unaware of how disturbing it looks. "I'm fine. Better than fine, really. I have to submit my code by midnight, so I'll be here for a while."

Margaery is looking a bit alarmed, Sansa thinks distantly. She doesn't understand. Sansa is the Connector. Her data visualization models are monoliths built in her mind, a precious cargo that only she can carry in her genius brain.

"Well, um, okay. Are you coming to the party at our place today? Brienne said she invited you. And here - I'm also inviting you. It's okay if you show up late." Margaery puts a sticky note on the door. "My number."

Sansa can't even register that she has just scored Margaery Tyrell's phone number. She's too busy seeing in eighty thousand dimensions.

* * *

_Twelve Cups_

Sansa stares at her screen, her head in her hands.

The hubris. The sheer hubris.

_I thought I was a conduit. A deliverer of wisdom._

_I am a false prophet._

There is nothing for her now. Only a blinking cursor, only the dark abyss in her mug.

It's 11:30.

She drinks.

* * *

_Thirteen Cups_

Sansa hits submit, barely able to believe that she's managed it, her body ready to shut down. She gets up and puts on her coat, ready to head home and sleep for a lifetime, when she sees the sticky note on her door with Margaery's number on it.

_Fuck it._

She walks back to her desk and drains the mug of coffee. She blinks slowly, and when her eyes open, she has it.

Confidence.

Clarity. 

She sets off at a run.

* * *

Margaery is holding up a wall at the house she and Brienne share with a few other women from their old sorority, nursing a drink and trying not to mope. Months of shy smiles and friendly chats. Even having a mutual friend in Brienne hasn't helped much in getting an in with Sansa Stark. Margaery is done with trying to be subtle.

_Now if only she would actually show up._ Margaery sighs and looks at her watch.

12:15.

12:20.

12:30.

At precisely 12:33, the door swings open so hard it slams against the aluminum siding. Everyone in the immediate area stops what they're doing and turns to look. Sansa Stark stands framed by the doorway, her red hair wild, her pupils dilated. For all that she's afraid that Sansa might actually keel over, Margaery's thrilled to see her, and the way that Sansa's eyes immediately track to her and stay there intently makes feel like she's prey - but in a good way.

Sansa opens a tin of mints and pours half of them into her mouth as a stunned Margaery watches. Then she walks toward her with the tunnel vision that only someone who has ridden the coffee lightning and come out the other side can achieve. Her eyes never leave Margaery's as she puts a hand on the wall beside Margaery's head and leans in. _Gods, I've dreamed of this so many times when I should have been doing soil titrations..._ Margaery had admitted to herself long ago how much of a turn on the height difference is. _Does Sansa know that I regularly ask her to get things off the top shelf just so I can watch her stretch?_

"I read _Silent Spring_ because Brienne told me it's what made you decide to go into environmental sciences," Sansa says, her eyes serene and sincere. "I take the long way to Clegane's office because it takes me past the window of your lab. I've read your undergrad honours thesis even though I only half-understand what bird populations have to do with pathogens in wetland ecosystems. And," she says, dipping her chin even closer to Margaery's face, "I always bring an extra coffee in case I run into you."

Sansa kisses her, then, and gods has it been a long semester of waiting for this. She tastes aggressively like after-coffee mints, but Margaery can't care. Sansa is sucking on her bottom lip and _ugh_ how many times has Margaery peeked into Sansa's office and seen her worrying her own lip and imagined exactly this?

Sansa pulls back. Margaery opens her eyes, smiling lazily. Sansa has a satisfied smile on her face. Margaery tilts her head at the other woman, waiting for that searing blue gaze.

Sansa's eyes are still closed.

Margaery follows Sansa's lolling head to the arm on the wall that is now miraculously holding her almost-dead weight up, and calls for Brienne to carry her to bed.

* * *

Sansa makes her way groggily down the stairs and into the kitchen. Brienne, Doreah, and Daenerys suddenly seem to have other things to do, and disperse to other areas of the house. Margaery grins at her and pulls her in for a slow kiss. 

"I've heard of liquid courage, but I don't normally associate that with coffee..." Margaery teases, fixing plates of pancakes and bacon for the two of them. Sansa ducks her head and smiles shyly over the mug Margaery hands her. 

"So - the thing about bird populations is that they're sort of, pardon the pun, a canary in the coal mine for all sorts of environmental issues that might be affecting the ecosystem at large..."

Sansa rests her chin in her hand and stares dreamily across the table at Margaery. She notes with amusement that her mug says "Wind power? I'm a huge fan!" 

She breathes in the steam from her coffee and decides that maybe Dr. Clegane isn't a total prick after all.


End file.
